Aftermath
by EricBonesVladCurran
Summary: What if Sookie had gone to Eric's room after leaving the rooftop? Spoilers through 2x09 "I Will Rise Up". This was the first story posted on FanFictiondotnet post-rooftop and it was written and published before 2x10 aired.
1. Sookie's POV

_A/N: This was the first story posted on FanFictiondotnet set post-rooftop, and at the time I did not frequent any other FF forums, so my concept of what happened was only inspired by my brain, TB and SVM. __This story was written and posted the same week the episode aired, before that Sunday when 02x10 aired. __I actually created a FanFictiondotnet account because I was desperate to imagine what happened right after True Blood episode 2x09, "I Will Rise Up" but nothing was posted yet. I took it as a challenge and crafted what I hoped would come next while I waited for the next new episode._

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I stand here, the full power of the sun warming my tanned skin, and I feel anything but warm. I squeeze myself a little more tightly as I continue to gaze at the spot on the roof that had once been occupied by Godric.

He is gone.

The blue flares had enveloped his body and all that is left as witness is me and his discarded shirt. I slowly walk towards that piece of cloth, willing my legs every inch because they don't want to move-they want to crumble. Hours later, it seems, the linen shirt is finally in my hands and I find myself bawling into it-standing in the very same sunlight that Godric had vanished into. I've seen a fair amount of death since Bill Compton walked into Merlotte's, but this was different.

_Oh, and Eric_. As much as I don't want to feel it, my heart breaks even more as I remember his pleas as he begged Godric not to do it. My dream from last night flashes into my mind before I can stop it and I realize that it really is true, he is a big faker. Suddenly my heart begins to race and I know that I have to go to him. It's not smart, and it may not be right, but I've just got to.

I rush across the roof and down the stairs and just find an empty hallway. _He must be in his room, it is daylight already, but will he still be awake?_ I take the elevator and stride to the door of his room, but as I raise my fist to knock, my breath catches in my throat. I hesitate.

For a moment, with my fist just a half inch from the door to Eric's room I find my mind zooming through all the consequences of my actions, but after all that thinking, I still knock. Instantly, as though he knew I was on the other side of the door and he'd just been waiting for me to choose to knock, the door opens and I find myself in front of a 6'5 Viking who looks anything but in command and intimidating.

Tears are pouring down his face unrelentingly (a word from my "Word of the Day" calendar) and he doesn't even attempt to hide his anguish from me. His shoulders are slumped over and he barely glances at me before turning his eyes back to the carpet and meekly walking to the couch in his room. He falls onto the chair like dead weight and I don't know how much of his weariness is from the daytime and how much of it is from grief.

I slowly take a step into his room, and then another-I'm not sure what I should do. And then his head turns up from staring at the clasped hands that are perched on his knees, and his eyes catch mine. There is no smirk, no façade of detachment, he is a thousand years old, and his eyes look even older. I rush over to him and can't help myself-I sit next to him on the couch and throw my arms around him, shaking as tears pour down my own face.

He buries his head in the bare crook of my neck, and for a split second I remember that he is a vampire and I would be completely helpless should he decide to bite me right now. He seems to smell my fear because he lifts his mouth to my ear and attempts to sound like his usual self, "Not until you ask me to, and believe me, you will." But his whisper is more longing than cocky and I hold him even tighter. His face goes back down to my shoulder and I feel his tears stream down my back.

I'm sobbing out loud now, and our grief seems to be feeding one another's. I'm not crying only for Godric now, but for Gran, for my mom and dad, for all the senseless death that seems to fill the world. Why does it have to be this way? How could Godric bear to live for two millennia? There's so much loss, so much pain, so much suffering. It hits me that Eric has lived for at least half as long and the gravity of that seems more relevant than ever: Godric was probably the only constant in Eric's entire undead life. And now he is gone.

I gasp for air and an even louder sob comes out of me; Eric pulls me into him, his chin now on my back, our chests crushed together. I cling to him, my nails digging in as I desperately try to ground myself_. I am still here. I am still alive. Jason is still alive._ I think back on all the people in Bon Temps: Arlene and Sam, Terry and Andy, even Mrs. Fortenberry, all those people I know who are still alive. _I'm not alone, I'm not alone. I'm not alone._

Eric seems to feel the depth of my distress-of course he would, stupid, manipulative a-hole-and he pulls away from me and holds my hands. He peers deeply into my eyes, his face smeared red with his own blood, and he asks, his voice halting and tentative, "Will… Will you… stay with me until I can finally rest?" I can barely believe my eyes and ears. _Is this the same Eric, sheriff of Area 5, master of a vast empire of businesses?_

My thoughts make me pause before I form an answer, and my face must show my utter shock because I see his eyes glaze over and he drops my hands and stands up. "You should go back to Bill. I'm sorry about your dress. I will pay for the dry-cleaning or buy you a new one." His voice is hard and distant, he turns his face from me and wipes it clean with a handkerchief that seems to appear from nowhere.

He strides to the door and begins to turn the handle and my eyes widen at what I'm losing, I cry out, "Wait!" He turns to face me, his eyes suspicious, his body tense. I take a deep breath. _All I'm doing is staying with a friend who is in incredible grief-Bill will just have to understand that. I mean, it's not like we're going to be necking or anything._ I slowly take a step towards his bed. The next one is faster and I hold out my hand to him, "Are you coming, or what?"

His shield comes down again, and I mentally sigh a breath of relief. For a moment it seems like he might make some wise-ass crack about getting me into bed, but his lips shut again and he looks at the carpet nodding twice and joining me in walking towards his bed. He gingerly (another "Word of the Day") sits on the bed and swings his feet up-shoes and all, and he looks at me distrustfully-as if he's afraid that I'm going to suddenly start laughing at him. I have no intention of doing that. I walk over to the other side of the bed and I follow his lead, lying on my side so that I'm facing him. He seems to relax just a little bit and he awkwardly opens his palm for me to hold it. I clasp hands with him, gently, and I see his eyes finally close. His body slackens and is limp in just a few seconds.

I'm falling asleep while holding hands with a vampire.

FIN


	2. Eric's POV

I look into her eyes as we clasp hands. She's going to stay with him-something I can't do. Something he _won't_ let me do.

I look back once, but I can't bring myself to look again-it just makes me want to stay with him.

One thousand years with him and now… And now he will be no more.

I don't know how I will go on. I close my eyes as I open the door to the hotel and force myself to escape the coming sunrise. The stupor of daytime is coming over me but I push it away. It's nothing in comparison to my grief and I want to feel my grief, I don't want to flee from it. I may not be able to die with him, or stay with him until the end, but I can at least hold vigil for him.

As I wait for the elevator I look down at my body, my all black outfit is so fitting. I examine my hands, these hands that have been with me through the centuries. I have so little left that has been with me throughout my journey. I have built up empires and lost them, I have triumphed in battles and been charred beyond recognition. I have survived, but now I know that that is not enough.

What had altered my Maker's view of humans and life so radically? What have I been missing? _I wish he were here to guide me, to show me how to live. _A single drop of blood rolls down my right cheek as I take the keycard out of my pocket and unlock my hotel room. I slowly walk into my room, my shoulders hunched, my eyes downcast. Everything is different now and I don't know what to do.

The call to slumber is undeniable, but I grit my teeth through the pain and open my bond with Sookie in order to feel her grief added to my own. My grief alone is not enough. I want more pain. _Why!? Why did he not allow me to die with him?! _ I want to weight of my grief to crush whatever life is left in me-I no longer want to live.

My grief is so heavy that I almost miss her coming near me; I stiffen as I wait for her to go into her room. But she doesn't open the door to the suite she shares with Bill. I feel her inner conflict coursing over our bond as she moves closer to my door. I'm at the door faster than I thought imaginable during the daytime. My hand hovering over the handle, I hear her ragged breath and quiet sobs through the door.

She hasn't knocked.

The weight of sunlight falls heavily upon me as I stand, waiting for her to choose to be with me. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, I hear her knocking tentatively and I whip open the door to see what I can only imagine an angel would look like. Her face is glistening wet with her tears-tears wept for my Maker, her golden hair still swept up in a ponytail, revealing her bare neck, her body flattered by a dress that is demurely sexy. She looks into my eyes, and I can not bear to stand any longer. I stride to the other side of the room, collapse onto the couch, and lean over my knees into an almost fetal position.

Tears are rolling down my face now, unbidden. Then again, maybe they'd never stopped since I came into my room. I watch as red drop after red drop soils the white carpet between my feet and the growing red stain seems comforting somehow, as my grief finally has a physical mark. Her presence comforts me, yet her unease at standing in my room is obvious. I glance up to find her eyes. Tears are streaming down her face now and she does something completely unexpected and throws her arms around me. It feels familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Her scent surrounds me and I nuzzle my face next to the pulsing arteries in her neck, allowing the steady rhythm to comfort me. But her body stiffens-she's fearful that I will drink of her because she doesn't realize that feeding is the last thing on my mind right now. I try to assure her that she is safe by making an awkward joke, the words stumble from my mouth, "Not until you ask me to, and believe me, you will." I don't know if she's reacting to my spoken desire for her, or the weakness in my voice, but she pulls me tighter and my tears roll even more freely.

I watch as my blood trickles down her bare back and soils the top of the back of her dress. The sight only makes my grief that much more tangible and I feel a primal sadness leap out of my chest as I sob louder than I ever have in centuries. _He is gone. He is really gone. _I never imagined that I wouldn't spend eternity with him, but now I am alone. Utterly, unequivocally, alone. My cries grow even louder.

Eventually the deepest pits of my grief have manifested and a calm begins to take over me-it's a relief. But it is only temporary. Through the bond I am overwhelmed by Sookie's mourning. I'm surprised, though I know I shouldn't be. This woman has shown unexpected depths of compassion, love and goodness. _Perhaps Godric is right._ My Maker's fate flashes through my mind again and I squeeze Sookie, thankful that he had such loving company in his last moments.

I hold her body in my arms and enjoy the warmth she brings to me. I don't want her to leave. I am drained, exhausted, and weary, but her presence gives me hope that maybe I will be able to go on without Godric and I'm not ready to do without that. Before I know what I'm doing, I pull away from her embrace to look her in the eyes and I hear myself asking, "Will… Will you… stay with me until I can finally rest?"

Her eyes flash with distrust and disgust and I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I couldn't feel her distaste for me so palatably. I need to get away. I should never have asked. Her rejection burns. My eyes squeeze shut. I stand and raise my arm to show her the way to the door, "You should go back to Bill. I'm sorry about your dress. I will pay for the dry-cleaning or buy you a new one." My voice is colder than usual as I try to cover the pain. I realize that my tears are still showing and I quickly wipe them away as if that would erase her memory of what she's seen of me. For not the first time, I wish she could be glamoured.

Waiting for her to just leave me, I try to force her exit by walking towards the door myself. But I swear I hear her voice cut through the silence, a melodic sound as she cries, "Wait!" _Stop imagining things._ But she doesn't join me at the door and I slowly turn to her, a glimmer of hope rising that I might not be so reprehensible in her tender eyes. _Maybe I didn't imagine that. _My mind is weary from fighting the daylight and my soul is weary from bereavement, but for a brief moment none of that seems to matter as the angel walks towards my bed. And then I swear that my heart sings as she holds out her palm and asks, "Are you coming, or what?"

_Am I delirious?_ I ask myself as I get into bed, doing my best to assure myself that this is very real and that Sookie Stackhouse really isn't rejecting me. I lay on my side, looking right into her eyes, and I move my open palm towards her, hoping that she will take it.

She does.

I close my eyes and let a sleep of death take me, knowing that an angel is lying with me.

FIN

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**A/N: If you like this, please check out the sequel: _You Deserve Much Better_. Thanks for reading and please review!**


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